


Comes Across All Shy And Coy (Just Another Nancy Boy)

by Fame_Is_Now_Injectable (DaisukiRose)



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, Placebo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Medicine, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reluctant Stripping, Sick!Kobra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9791135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisukiRose/pseuds/Fame_Is_Now_Injectable
Summary: “This is not fuckin’ fine,” Fun Ghoul growled from his seat in the diner booth, tugging at a loose thread in his bandanna. “What part of this is fine, Jet? We’re letting Party drive straight back to Hyper-Thrust without us, to do Destroya knows what so he can get Kid medicine. Kid’s already reached the first acceptable level of dead, what’s the point?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tired. I'm hyper. I wrote this.
> 
> SPOILERS/TRIGGER WARNING  
> There is the possibility that you could see the story as Party being raped at the very end, but that is not how I intended it when it was written. It's non-graphic, but if you think that could be a problem, turn around now.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Killjoys to find themselves cradled away in the loud, neon abyss that was Hyper-Thrust, but tonight was different. Tonight was different, immeasurably so, because instead of being in the passenger seat of their Trans Am with his zap in his lap and a miniscule smirk on his face, Kobra Kid was laying in the back of their temporary home in an abandoned Dead Pegasus, feverish and sweating, hands shaking in tiny tremors and face tense. His red leather jacket was thrown haphazardly on the floor, his head in Jet Star’s lap. “Hold on, Kid,” Jet Star was saying, voice low, almost hidden under the rumble of the car’s engine outside. “It’s all gonna be fine.”

“This is not fuckin’ fine,” Fun Ghoul growled from his seat in the diner booth, tugging at a loose thread in his bandanna. “What part of this is fine, Jet? We’re letting Party drive straight back to Hyper-Thrust without us, to do Witch knows what so he can get Kid medicine. Kid’s already reached the first acceptable level of dead, what’s the point?”

“Don’t talk like that, Ghoul,” Jet Star admonished tiredly, hand absentmindedly brushing through Kid’s hair. “You know that Party doesn’t want to go back to that any more than you want him to. Kid’s not gonna die, he’s a strong soul.”

“This whole thing is gonna go Costa Rica, I can feel it.” Ghoul turned away from the two of them, biting into a cactus fruit he’d found the other day. “He better come back in one piece, is all I’m saying.”

Party Poison came back into the room then, jacket over his arm and bright blue bag in his hand. “If I’m not back tomorrow morning, come find me.” He said, fidgeting with the sleeve of his Dead Pegasus jacket and clearing his throat. “It should run fine though, Show Pony’s there tonight.” Jet Star and Ghoul both gave grim nods, and Party sighed heavily. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow.” Jet Star chorused, while Ghoul kept his eyes fixed on the torn Formica of the tabletop.

Party bent down, smoothing a hand over Kobra Kid’s forehead before standing up and nodding, regaining composure and walking out of the room. “Tomorrow.”

He slipped into the driver’s seat of the Trans Am, setting his bag on the floor as he took a deep inhale, closing his eyes for a second and opening them to see Ghoul standing at the window , head almost imperceptibly cocked to the side. “You’re gonna be the safest fucker in there, yeah?” He asked, voice wavering. 

“Yeah, of course.” Party smiled meekly at him. “It’s just one more time, Ghoul, you know I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t like this.” Ghoul said lowly. “Why can’t we get the money another way?”

“This is fast, and Chimp said she can put me on tonight.” Party said through the window. “This doesn’t change anything… Between us, I mean.”

“Never.” Ghoul swore. “But when you get home, I swear to the Witch, the moment you walk through those doors you’re never leaving my sight again.” 

His eyes were dark, dangerous, and ultimately the sexiest thing Party had ever seen. Party let out a shiver, nodding as he swallowed a breath. “Yeah, okay.” He said. “I’m okay with that.”

 

The drive from Zone 4 to the edge of Zone 6 wasn’t one Party liked to make alone for fear of meeting some wayward Dracs, so after he pulled his beast of a Trans Am up to the back of Hyper-Thrust he was able to breathe a momentary sigh of relief. He adjusted his mask, re-tied the knot keeping his bandanna over his face and stepped out into the wind and the sand, tight grip on his blue leather case as he pushed his way through the desert and to the back door, which was illuminated with a single neon green lightbulb. He barely had to touch the door for it to fly open and pulled with all his might to shut it again behind him, thankful for the click that signaled the windproofing sitting in its lock. “Hey, motorgoblin,” A man in a black coat stitched with bright yellow thread said, his crazy blue hair spilling out from underneath an old Army helmet. “The front door’s on the other side.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know me, Mr. Vampire Resistance.” Party rolled his eyes. “I’m here to work.”

The other man did a double take, turning back and scanning over Party. “Party Poison, the one and only!” He boomed, moving forwards to grab the smaller in a bone-crushing hug. 

“Oof!” Party said, laughing as he pushed him off. “Not tonight, I’m just Red tonight. You haven’t seen Hot Chimp, have you?”

“She’s around front,” Vamp says, reaching into his coat’s pockets for a radio, pulling it out and pressing a button on the side. “This is Vampire, I need the four and double-ones on Chimp’s location. Can she meet me around back?”

“Affirmative, I can.” DJ Hot Chimp’s staticky voice crackled back through the radio as she rounded the corner to come into the room. “Red, so nice to see you!” She purred, smile painting her face. “Here for that deal I made you?”

“As always, Chimp.” Party said, a sickly-sweet smile gracing his face as he batted his eyes. “I’m on in 20?”

“You know the deal, sweet boy, it never changes. I’ll get your brother his medicine, I just can’t do it for free, y’know? The zones, they ain’t forgiving to a woman who does things for free.”

“Of course.” Party nodded, fingers tightening and going lax around the handle of his bag. 

“We got a new motorbaby you’ll be working with, he’s called Nancy Boy.” Chimp said languidly. “Show Pony’s with some zonerunners right now, but he’ll be free in an hour or so.”

“Sounds good.” Party held out his hand, expectant, and Hot Chimp dropped a shiny brass key into his palm. “Send Nancy Boy back here in like five minutes, yeah?”

“Will do.” Chimp blew a kiss and winked as she backed out of the room. “Gotta blast, I’m needed up front. Kisses, Red!”

“Kisses!” Party called back, turning and unlocking one of the small dressing rooms along the wall. “Vamp, guard my door. Don’t want another incident like last time.”

“No way, man, that feisty little black-haired punk you roll with still wants my skin.” Vamp said, holding up his hands. “No Ritalin Rats are touching you again, ever.”

“Yeah, that’d be milkshakes.” Party rolled his eyes, knowing the truth of the situation as soon as he shut the door and opened his deep blue bag. Last time wouldn’t be the last time – Ritalin Rats get everywhere, he’d have to deal with one again someday. Hopefully not today, though.

Party reached into his bag and started laying out makeup and an outfit, one he’d sworn up and down he’d thrown away when he and Jet and Ghoul banded together back in 2017. Here he was, two years later, pulling out a green lace bralette with leather shoulder straps and matching lace boy shorts he and Kobra Kid had found in 2015 somewhere around Zone 3 in an abandoned building called Annie’s, with black heels to match. It was degrading, yes, but that’s half of what drew Party to it in the first place. He took off his leather and mask, setting them down carefully and pulling on his top, reveling in the scratch of lace against his pale skin and the cool leather against the back of his shoulders. It was a look he knew zonerunners would kill over, a look that they loved but was being overplayed now, and he was bringing it back to the basics. When he’d started doing whatever this was, wearing these clothes, it had felt empowering, empowering and dirty and unheard of, and he had been the anomaly. While he hated the objectification, he loved the thrill, and that’s what he was focusing on now. _For Kobra,_ he willed himself. _For Kobra, and for the looks on their faces, and for what you know Ghoul will do when you get home. You can do this, Party. Red. Just one more time._

“Hey, Red? Nancy Boy here.” A nasally feminine voice called through the door, accompanied by a soft tap. “You done getting dressed? Boss sent me back, figured I’d meet you.”

“Yeah, just a second…” Party replied, hurrying into his shorts and adjusting the trim on his bralette. He pulled on a dark, forest-green mask and opened the door, half-smile on his face.

He was greeted by a thin, smiling person, black hair as long as Party’s own hanging in loose threads around his face, burnt-orange bra with white trim covering his top and a pair of thin beige-white panties with chiffon ruffles over his hips, a heavily detailed and faded angel tattoo poking out of the waistband. A single-leg leather harness crept down his right side, O-ring bright silver and gleaming in the low light. His mask was simple, the top of a paper bag cut out and tied with a white ribbon, garishly-cut eye-holes revealing a bright blue sparkling back out. “They weren’t joking, your hair is really red.” He deadpanned, the hint of a smirk creeping onto his lips. 

“Well, yeah.” Party laughed nervously. “I haven’t seen you here before, are you new?”

“Nah, just passing through.” Nancy Boy shrugged, one hand falling down to toy with his chiffon. “It’s good work, y’know. Everywhere in the Zones.”

“Yeah, there’s lots of zonerunners that’d give their left ear for someone like us.” Party shot back, falling into the character of Red. “What are we planning for tonight?”

“Dunno if you’ve seen what Boss has done with the place, but we have our own little stages, and a platform between we can walk across.” Nancy Boy replied, sitting down and studying Party while he did his makeup. “Figured we’d do our own thing, see who’s got the more interested crowd, and then the other would come and join them.”

“You make it sound so clinical.” Party waved a hand around as he spoke, this one clutching an eyeliner pencil. 

“It’s just work.” Boy tossed his head, licking ruby red lips. “You’re prettier than a lot of the pornodroid wannabes that come through here these days, though.”

“Oh, don’t make me blush.” Party deadpanned, waving a hand in front of his face and succeeding in getting powdery glitter on Nancy Boy’s leg. “I’ve been doing this for years, it’s practiced. I didn’t wanna come back to it, but rough times…”

“I get you, dust angel.” Nancy Boy drawled, brushing the errant makeup off of his thigh. “It’s a tough business. Doing it for a rugrat?”

“Brother.” Party admitted. “It’s nothing huge.”

“Family’s all you got out here.” Nancy said, watching Party finish his mascara. “Ready to go blow Hyper-Thrust’s minds?”

“Always,” Party grinned, putting the wand back in his mascara and batting his eyelashes at himself in the mirror. “Let’s put on a show.”

 

It was dirty. Dirty, filthy, loud, and everything Party remembered it being, but seeing the look of awe when two women left the stage and he and Nancy took it was worth it. “Crash Queens and motorbabies, feast your eyes on Hyper-Thrust’s prize!” DJ Hot Chimp’s voice rang across the small, dusky room. “Our very own Red, back from the dead, with your favourite toy… Nancy Boy!”

The room erupted in cheers and whistles as the music started, something slow and sultry. The two took the stage, eyes flitting to eachother and Party gave a covert nod. He took a deep breath, trying to dislodge the tension in the pit of his stomach, but it wouldn’t leave. With a final deep breath, he sashayed over to the pole in the center of his platform, semiconsciously swinging his hips to let the shiny leather trim of his shorts catch the light. His candy-red hair fell into his eyes as he hooked a leg around the pole, sending the audience as innocent a smile as he possibly could before lifting his arms up and grabbing above his head, flexing the muscles in his generally-lean body as he ground down on the pole, dipping almost to his knees and throwing his head back with a quiet groan. His eyes locked on one of the men in front of him, a greasy zonerunner who had seen better days, eyes blown wide as he watched the gentle sway of Party’s hips. His long yellow hair was tied back in some sort of crazy braid, his teeth crooked as he smiled, but Party licked his lips nevertheless, playing up an aborted thrust of his hips to watch the lust on his face. 

_Greasy old-timer, thinks he’s got a shot with me._ Party’s inner monologue was running, making him smirk playfully. _Probably been in the desert since before BLI/nd took over, doesn’t know the difference._

He glanced over to Nancy Boy briefly, seeing the other man with his head thrown back, playfully dipping a finger into the band of his panties. He was squatted down on his haunches, knees on the floor, showing off the lean curve of his tummy with one hand above him on the pole, really playing it up for those lucky enough to be near him. Party smirked, hands traveling back up the pole before he rose, back to the audience where he clicked the heel of one of his boots against the rapidly-warming metal and slid down in one oscillating, fluid motion to where his ass was just above the ground, back muscles stretched taut and sweat dripping through the thin sheen of glitter that covered his body. He heard a whistle from behind him and shook his ass, a smirk on his face as he tossed his head. 

The song changed, fading into something playful and dark, and Party grinned, standing out of his squat easily and making his way in deliberate, languid steps to the center platform between him and Nancy Boy. They stood face to face for almost half a second before Party saw the hesitation in Nancy’s eyes and grabbed his hands, lifting them above both of their heads and turning him around slowly to be back-to-chest with Party, letting him grind down against him as they both slowly sunk to their knees. Nancy Boy’s garishly burlesque makeup and costume clashed with Party’s subtle, original one in just the right way to make them what everyone wanted, and they knew it. However, as soon as he touched a finger to the other man, Party’s mind flew back to Ghoul at home, probably keeping himself up, sick with worry, and he almost broke character before they could even begin. He had more important things to focus on right now, though, like finishing the dance to pay for Kobra’s medicine, like getting back to zone 4 without running into some dracs, like _Nancy Boy_ here on the floor in front of him. 

Once he had Nancy kneeling, he slunk to be face-to-face with him, predatory and slow, before rising to his knees to be just above Nancy Boy’s face, hips cocked to the side as he traced a finger through the glitter adorning Boy’s skin. He rolled back in a highly-practiced motion to be sitting on the platforms of his shoes again, guiding Nancy Boy by the chiffon ruffles back to his feet, and sinking to his knees in front of the boy, hands ghosting over skin, gentle touches that sent the crowd wild. The song would be ending soon, he knew, so he stood and slotted the two of them together, letting their hips fall into an easy grind that never let either man touch the other, something that looked downright filthy but was almost as innocent as you could get inside Hyper-Thrust’s walls.

The motorgoblins in the audience were roaring, alcohol that smelled like paint thinner being spilt all over the floor as they vied to get closer to the stage, to get close enough to touch the boys, but everyone involved knew that was almost an impossibility with the security on staff. As soon as you laid a finger on either of them, you were booted back out into the sand outside faster than you could say Killjoy. Party teased them with a flick of his hips, sending him and Nancy Boy closer together, hands on hips as they rolled fluidly, right until the end of the song, right until the stage lights turned off and the main floor ones turned back on, leaving Party and Nancy in the dark to pick up the Carbons being thrown onstage by the hungry wolves of men in the audience. They grabbed their bags from behind the stage, stuffing the money inside before they stealthily made their way backstage. 

“And that, my filthy friends, was the highlight of your night, Red and Nancy Boy!”

 

“Leaving after one dance, Red?” Nancy boy asked back in the dressing room, watching as Party counted the cash in his bag. “The night just started, my friend.”

“I’ve got 300 Carbons here, that’s more than I need.” Party replied quietly, blanket across his lap and face tense. He just wanted to get out of here without being recognized, a killjoy dancing would spread wild rumours. He was just glad red was a more popular hair colour now. “Gotta get back to my brother.”

“I feel.” Nancy replied. “You look nervous, not feeling it tonight?”

“I got out of dancing, I didn’t want to come back.” Party admitted, looking at himself in one of several full-length mirrors and standing up, reaching for makeup wipes and setting to work getting everything off. “This is, like, worst-case scenario.”

“Not very many people end up here cuz they want to be.” Nancy reminded him, putting more makeup and glitter over where his had been sweated off and preparing for a round two.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Party scoffed. 

“Nancy! On in five!” Vampire Resistance’s voice reached into the dressing room from where he was stationed in the back hallway, causing the other man to perk up, standing and making his way towards the door.

“See you again sometime?” Nancy asked, batting his eyelashes.

“Hopefully not, no offense.” Party laughed. “I don’t wanna come back here.”

“That makes two of us.” Nancy Boy smiled, waving his hand as he backed out of the room and went to be closer to stage.

Party let out a huge sigh, taking off the last layers of makeup and slipping out of his lace shorts. After having his jeans back on, he was so much more relaxed, ready to go home, ready to give Kobra Kid his medicine and pray to the Witch that he’d survive this one. He pulled on boots and didn’t bother with changing his top, knowing that whatever he was wearing when he got home would be discarded shortly by none other than Fun Ghoul himself. That single thought made him smile, shiver in anticipation, and tie his bandanna around his face as he went back out into the hall. “There you are, Red!” DJ Hot Chimp grinned, coming down the hall with Show Pony in her wake. “Pony has your medicine, it cost him 200 carbons.”

“Done.” Party breathed, thankful it wasn’t much more. As things went, it was cheap, dirt-cheap considering a can of Power Pup was 100 carbons and a blaster was 15,000 before you even considered holsters. “Two-hundred, I can do that.”

“Get him patched up,” Pony said, roller skating over to Party easily and holding out a small vial. “Can’t be losing more zonerunners right now.”

“Witch forbid.” Party kissed the first two fingers on his hand and held it skyward as a mock salute to their god, and both ‘joys smiled. “I’ll be seeing you guys around.”

“Coming back?” Chimp asked, smirk creeping onto her face.

“Not as a dancer.” Party insisted. “Last time, I swear.”

“Hopin’ for the best for you, Red.” Chimp tipped her patched-up old bowler hat in Party’s direction as the two of them each took a step back.

“You too, Chimp.” He nodded, repositioning his mask as he opened the back door and stepped into the miraculously cool night. He reveled in the feeling of the air against his mostly-bare midriff as he made the short walk to where his car was parked under a Joshua tree. He had the medicine in his pocket, over 100 carbons in his bag, and the dirty, unsettled feeling the club left him with every time, but life was looking up, and he was beyond thankful for that. 

He kicked a pebble with the toe of his boot, fifty feet from his car, and that’s when he heard it. A soft crunch behind him, that of another pair of boots following him out, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He quickened his steps, hoping to reach the door before the other person caught up, but tonight simply wasn’t his night. A hand slipped onto his shoulder, spinning him around to come face-to-face with the yellow-haired man from earlier. “Hey, pretty boy,” His thick, drunk voice drawled, a wave of bad breath washing over Party. “Looking for some extra work?”

“I’m off,” Party spat as the man took his hand off of his mouth. “Fuck off, go buy a pornodroid.”

Looking back, that might not have been the right choice of words. The man’s brow knit together as his fist swung forward, straight for Party’s face. He blocked the first shot, and the second, but didn’t see the third sneaking in to land on his liver, buckling him and letting the man get in a few more shots on his face. “Good-for-nothing whore of a zonerunner, Ritalin Rat, you can’t say no to me.” He growled. “You won’t next time.” He delivered a kick to Party’s ribs, making him whine as he felt hands pulling at his shoulders, punching and kicking, opening a cut over his eye and tearing his lip. “All fucked up, nobody’ll want you.” The man spat, saliva landing on Party’s stomach, but he daren’t move to brush it off. Amidst another wave of fists and knees, Party’s vision went blurry, and his consciousness was blanketed in a coat of white.

 

When he came to, the first thing Party felt was pain. He let out a high-pitched whine as he rolled over onto his back, trying to get his arms to cooperate to check for broken ribs. He managed to get himself onto hands and knees, breath heaving as he held onto the handle of his car door to stand, opening it and falling into the driver’s seat with a pained gasp. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the blood caked on his hair, the dried brown the wrong shade against his normal cherry red. He felt along his ribs, counting one, two, three cracked or broken ones on the left and two on the right. Nevertheless, he grimaced as he started the car and stepped on the gas, hoping to hit the red line all the way back to zone four, all the way back to safety.

He didn’t remember half of the drive, kept blinking in and out, not able to remember where he was until he saw a monument or a specific gnarled tree. _Oh yeah,_ he thought. _Medicine for Kid._

By the time he returned to zone 4 and the relative safety of the Dead Pegasus, he was coughing up blood and nearly asleep from pain. Shutting off the engine and limping to the door was a pain, and opening it was harder. “Hi, guys.” He said weakly as Jet and Ghoul stared straight at him, slackjawed as they took in his bruised, beaten, and bloody appearance. “Is… Is Kobra still with us? I got his… Medicine…”

With that, he fell, legs giving out under him and vision going black as Ghoul dove to catch him before he hit the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> ehehe.
> 
> Comments and kudos are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins!  
> ~xoxoFame


End file.
